The Rediscovery Pt. 3
Choosing to Stay
Once I could hear myself again, I realized something unexpected:
Hearing myself wasn’t the hardest part.
Staying was.
Because it’s one thing to notice the truth.
It’s another thing to live differently once you do.
Peace isn’t found. It’s practiced.
I used to think peace was something I’d arrive at eventually.
After things settled.
After I figured it all out.
After life stopped asking so much of me.
But peace isn’t a finish line.
It’s a practice.
It shows up in the quiet, ordinary choices — the ones no one applauds and no algorithm rewards.
It’s choosing myself in small, almost invisible ways.
Letting things be unfinished.
Allowing rest without justification.
Releasing the belief that my worth is measured by how much I give away.
Some days, practicing peace feels grounding.
Other days, it feels uncomfortable — even selfish.
Because I spent so long believing that disappearing was the responsible thing to do.
Unlearning the urge to disappear
For years, my default response to discomfort was to shrink.
To over-function.
To over-explain.
To over-give.
To smooth things over before anyone noticed I needed something too.
Rediscovery has been less about adding things to my life
and more about unlearning the reflex to abandon myself.
Learning to pause instead of pushing.
To feel instead of fixing.
To stay present even when it would be easier to numb out or stay busy.
This part isn’t pretty.
It’s quiet. It’s slow.
It requires honesty I don’t always feel ready for.
But it’s real.
Choosing myself doesn’t mean choosing only myself
This is something I’m still working through.
Choosing myself doesn’t mean I stop caring for others.
It doesn’t mean I opt out of responsibility or love.
It means I stop believing that love requires self-erasure.
It means my needs don’t come last by default.
It means I get to take up space — even when it’s inconvenient.
And some days, that choice feels brave.
Other days, it feels shaky and unfamiliar.
But it feels truer than the way I was living before.
Staying present when it would be easier to escape
There are moments when the old patterns tug at me.
When productivity feels safer than rest.
When staying busy feels easier than staying honest.
When disappearing still feels tempting.
And in those moments, I remind myself:
I don’t need to vanish to be worthy.
I don’t need to earn rest.
I don’t need to give everything away to deserve stability or love.
Sometimes staying looks like saying no.
Sometimes it looks like slowing down.
Sometimes it looks like letting myself be seen — even imperfectly.
That’s the practice.
Where I am now
I’m not healed.
I’m not finished.
I’m not perfectly peaceful.
But I’m present.
I’m choosing to stay with myself instead of rushing past my own life.
And maybe that’s what rediscovery really is.
Not a dramatic transformation.
Not a new identity.
Just a woman learning — day by day —
that she’s allowed to exist fully in her own life.
Reflection question:
Where do you notice yourself disappearing — and what might it look like to stay instead?
You don’t have to answer all at once.
Practicing presence starts small.